


The Switchblade Sisters

by Flabbyknight



Series: Parahumans Stories [4]
Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22064266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flabbyknight/pseuds/Flabbyknight
Summary: Prompt: Emma loses an eye in the alley and ditches the Queen Bee persona for an eye-patch wearing delinquent who's still besties with a happy chatterbox geek.
Relationships: Emma Barnes & Taylor Hebert | Skitter | Weaver
Series: Parahumans Stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595887
Comments: 12
Kudos: 128
Collections: The Cauldron Give-a-Fic-a-Thon





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [69floorsofmadness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/69floorsofmadness/gifts).



Emma flinched violently at the sudden knocking at her door. “Emma?” called out her mom. “Taylor’s here, do you feel up to seeing her?”

Emma opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She didn’t know what she wanted. If Taylor came in, she would see what had happened to her, that Emma was… damaged, hideous, pathetic… but she still wanted to see Taylor so badly it hurt. After a minute of fidgeting on her bed in silence, she finally croaked out a “Yes.” She couldn’t hide from Taylor forever.

At the sound of her door opening, a spike of fear shot through Emma. She resisted the urge to curl up into a ball and instead stared up at the ceiling, gripping onto her bedsheets so tightly her hands hurt. Emma tried to calm down as Taylor's quiet footfalls came closer. “Hey… Emma,” said Taylor softly.

Emma silently looked up at Taylor; she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. As she searched desperately for words, Taylor flopped down next to her on the bed and pulled her into a hug. Emma felt her eye burning but fought down the urge to cry. The two of them embraced in silence for a long while before Emma managed to choke out, “How was summer camp?”

“What?” Taylor asked hesitantly.

“I want to know what you did at summer camp,” demanded Emma. “I don’t want… to think right now.”

“U-uh, alright. So, on the first day, I-” Taylor started off slowly but gradually picked up speed, her words blurring into each other. Emma let Taylor’s rambling voice wash over her and soothe her anxiety. “-There I was, the entire kitchen ablaze and tied to the radiator-” Without Taylor, she didn’t know if she could handle all of this. “-And it turned out that Old Man Jenkins was the ghost all along!”

“Wait, what?” Emma asked as the words she heard finally registered.

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. Who would have believed that the kindly old man down the street was secretly trying to get the camp shut down so he could turn it into a shopping mall?” said an excited Taylor. “And his plan would have succeeded too if it weren’t for this one girl and her pack of dogs. I’ve never seen a full-grown man cry so much before!”

“That’s… uh… I’m not really sure how to respond to that?” Emma said. She was now feeling confused instead of empty and scared, so that was a plus. The two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few minutes until Taylor suddenly sat up and reached into her pocket. She hesitated for a moment before thrusting a bright pink something into Emma’s hands.

“I, uh, got you this. I thought maybe you would like it,” Taylor muttered nervously. Emma looked down at the eyepatch, grasped between her fingers, and didn’t say anything. Taylor’s leg started to bounce.“U-Uh, if you don’t like it, that’s okay! Maybe this was a bad idea. Oh no. Why did I think this was a good gift? I figured it would make you look like one of those old action movie heroes. They're always like, ‘pew pew!’” Taylor made finger guns along with the sound effect. “And the bad guys are all like ‘Aaah you got me!’”

Despite herself, Emma let out a giggle as her dork of a friend began making increasingly ridiculous sounds with her mouth. The resultant pout on Taylor’s face caused her giggles to turn into full-blown laughter. After she had regained her breath, Emma wheezed out a “Thanks.” 

Taylor squirmed a little as she said, “You’re welcome.”

Taking a deep breath, Emma placed the eyepatch around her head and over her missing eye. The feeling of cloth wrapped around her head was surprisingly comforting; It was like getting a hug from Taylor.

“Wow! You look kick butt, just like Alexandria! Did you know she also only has one eye too?”

The comparison to Alexandria, the world's coolest hero, put a grin on Emma’s face. “Praise me more,” she said imperiously with her best Alexandria impression.

The two of them spent the rest of the day talking. Okay, Taylor did most of the talking as usual, but that didn’t matter to Emma. Later, after the two of them had gone to bed, Emma untangled herself from Taylor’s serpentine grip and made her way to her bathroom.

Emma stared into the mirror for the first time since the incident. Taylor was right, the eyepatch _did_ make her look badass. Despite herself, Emma posed in front of the mirror and flipped her hair with a smirk. Yeah, you know what? _Fuck_ being upset about this! Emma was a badass bitch. She wasn’t damaged, she had _war scars._ She had gone through hell and had come out alive.

Emma Barnes was going to take the world by storm. People everywhere would stare at her in awe or fear— she wasn’t picky. But first, she was going to need a makeover. Emma required a change in image to go with her new eyepatch. ‘Preppy fashion model’ was no longer a viable option, and there weren’t a lot of options out there that had eyepatches. Hmm… Pirate? No, that wasn’t quite right; pirates were so last decade, she may be an ex-fashion model, but she still had standards. Something like… a high school delinquent. _Yes._ That felt right.

…

Her parents had been so happy that Emma was finally leaving her room that they didn’t even care about where she was actually going. Her first stop was, of course, Lighthouse, the premier store for hip and edgy teens. Naturally, everything there was in various shades of black, the most bitching color. Emma made her way past a stack of Invader Zim t-shirts to the artfully torn jeans section of the store.

After deciding that she preferred midnight colored jeans to the twilight shade, Emma made her way through the rest of the store, picking and choosing the various accessories that she needed to complete her look. Fingerless gloves were a must-have. Some people might ask what the purpose of fingerless gloves was, but they were fools of the highest order. 

The final thing Emma needed to complete her ensemble, the pièce de résistance, was, of course, a black leather jacket. What troublesome youth could exist without one? It would be like a hipster without a scarf. Madness.

Squinting at the changing room mirror, Emma felt like she was missing something vital to her look, but what?

…

Emma watched in amusement as Taylor stared at her new hairdo in open awe. It was a thing of beauty. Ebony spikes of hair shot out in every direction, forming together into the most defiant hairstyle there ever was — the mohawk. “That’s so cool, Emma!” gushed Taylor. “But why did you dye your hair black?”

“Because my hair reflects my heart, which is black as sin,” Emma replied with a roguish smirk.

Taylor swooned.

…

Emma stood beside Taylor with clenched fists as they looked towards Winslow High School, a den of scum and villainy. Emma only had one chance at this, she couldn’t mess it up. Taking a deep breath, Emma posed, leaning back as she splayed her fingerless gloves in front of her face. Her voice filled with gravitas, she asked, “Alright Taylor, it’s time, are you ready?”

“Of course,” said Taylor with a solemn nod. “I looked up information on last year’s syllabus for English class with Mrs. Gardner. I made sure to read all the books ahead of time and then the books analyzing the material, so I am really prepared. Then for Math I-”

“Not that, you nerd,” Emma said, deflating a little at having her moment ruined. “Today is the day we become the queen bitches of this school!”

“We are?” asked a surprised Taylor. “When you said we were going to dominate the school, I thought you meant beating everyone else with our sweet schoolwork skills.”

Emma let out a groan as she ran a hand down her face. “Taylor, doing homework is never cool. No cool kid has ever done homework. In fact, I forbid you from ever doing homework.” At Taylor’s devastated expression, Emma hastily added, “Okay, you can do the homework, but if anybody asks, you don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

Taylor frowned in thought. “What about teachers? I don’t want the teachers to think that I'm sassing them. Mom always said I should always respect teachers. Their jobs are hard, and they don’t get paid enough and-”

“Yeah, alright, you can tell teachers that you did your homework and that you know what it means,” said Emma in a defeated tone. Taylor let out a giggle, and Emma gasped. “You’ve been goofing me this whole time, haven’t you.” Taylor shot her a sly smile. Emma narrowed her eye at Taylor. She would get her revenge for this later; now was the time to rule the school. “Anyway, you ready to take the school by storm?”

“Not really?” At Emma’s thunderous expression, Taylor quickly elaborated, “I’m not really sure what we are doing?”

“Didn’t I explain this to you already?” demanded Emma.

“No. You said that you couldn’t explain your plan because plans always succeed if you never speak them aloud,” said Taylor.

“Right, I did say that, didn’t I? Well, the plan itself is fairly simple, so I don’t think it would hurt to say something at this juncture.”

“Then why didn’t you do so earlier?” groused Taylor.

Emma ignored Taylor’s unreasonable whinging and carried on. “You see, Taylor, high school, is just like a prison but with teens.”

“Isn’t that juvie?”

“Yes,” said Emma with a sigh. “However, unlike juvie, we are going to have zero supervision."

“That can’t be true, Emma. I’m sure the teachers are going to step in if things get out of hand,” protested Taylor.

Emma bent over as she let loose a deep belly laugh. “Oh Taylor, you sweet summer child.”

Taylor pouted furiously, causing Emma to break down laughing again. “Just tell me the gosh darn plan, Emma.”

“The first thing we’re going to need to do is find the biggest asshole in this place and beat the shit out of them.”

“Uh… what?” said Taylor with wide eyes.

Emma looked around and spotted a group of teens dressed in ABB colors loitering by the front of the building. Her heart clenched. She gritted her teeth and glared with her single eye at them. “Alright, Taylor, we’re going to kick their asses.”

“We?!” Taylor squeaked out.

“Of course. You’re my best friend in the entire world, Taylor, I wouldn’t trust anybody else to have my back in a moment like this,” said Emma as she threw an arm over Taylor’s shoulder and started to lead her towards the street toughs.

“Aww,” said Taylor with a sappy smile. “That’s so sweet, Emma. Of course, I’ll help back you up!”

“Great. Take these brass knuckles,” said Emma as she took them out of her purse. Taylor gaped.

“W-What?! What am I supposed to do with these?!” asked Taylor as she fumbled with her brand spanking new weapons of destruction.

“Is that a rhetorical question?" Emma scoffed. "Because I can’t think of anything you can do with those besides punch people.”

“I, uh, do you even know how to fight?”

Emma let out a snort of laughter and shook her head. “‘Do I know how to fight,’ she asks. Taylor, with _this_ baby, it is going to be a cinch.” Emma drew her switchblade from her pocket and brandished it.

Taylor stared at her with wide eyes.“Where did you even get that?!”

…

“Hey Daddy, I need some switchblades for school!” called out Emma. “I can’t be top bitch without one!”

“Alright, Pumpkin, I’ll go pick some up when I come back from work.”

“You’re the best!”

…

“Your dad is the coolest,” said Taylor.

“No doubt. Alright, Taylor, I'm going to challenge the leader to a duel, you need to make sure to keep all their minions from joining in and ganging up on me.”

“Right, but I can’t help but notice that there are ten of them and two of us,” pointed out Taylor with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

Emma put her hands on Taylor’s shoulders and stared into one of her eyes. “Taylor, I know deep down that you have the heart of a warrior. Those fools don’t stand a chance.” Taylor gave her a weak smile and nodded.

Encouragement given, Emma strode towards the biggest of the gangsters and pointed her finger towards him dramatically. “Hey, fucker! I challenge you to a duel!”

He stared at Emma for a moment in shocked silence before bursting out laughing. “Look at this little white gi-” Emma let out a battle cry and charged him before he had time to react, laying him out with a haymaker.

“What the fuck!” shouted one of her new minions.

“Looks like I won,” said Emma with a triumphant smirk. “That means I'm in charge now.”

“Kick her ass!” Wait, that wasn’t how this was supposed to go. TV had lied to her!

Emma let a shriek of fury at this sudden betrayal from her new minions. They would regret the day they ever crossed Emma Barnes!

The closest traitor drew his own switchblade and struck out at Emma. Fortunately, she had spent hours practicing in front of the mirror, making her an expert, and parried his blow with her own blade.

With a contemptuous flick of her wrist, she disarmed him. “Fuck this!” he shouted as he ran like the coward he was.

The rest of the pack surrounding them was hesitating now that they had seen Emma’s sweet skills. Emma watched as a gangster looked between Emma and Taylor, trying to decide which of them was the softer target. He lunged for Taylor, but she managed to dodge as she scrambled backwards and tripped. As she fell onto her butt, her foot shot out with the full force of her body into his balls. “Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry! That was an accident, I swear!”

He let out a scream of agony as he collapsed to the floor. “Don’t apologize to the enemy, Taylor!” shouted Emma as she tried to scratch out the eyes of her next victim. Taylor hurriedly tried to clamber to her feet and accidentally elbowed another one of their foes below the belt.

“Sorry!”

“Let’s get out of here! These bitches are crazy!” The few ABB kids that remained standing fled into the distance.

“Well, that didn’t go quite as I had planned it,” said Emma with a sad sigh.

“What do you mean? We kicked tushy!”

Emma sighed in exasperation. “Oh my God Taylor, we just beat up a bunch of toughs like a pair of hardcore punching machines, don’t use the word tushy! Use ‘ass’ like an adult.”

“Swearing is puerile, not adult, Emma,” Taylor said with a sniff.

“Yes, and saying tushy is- wait no, we’re getting off-topic. What was I saying again?” Taylor just shrugged at her. So helpful. “Right, my plan didn’t work the way I wanted it to. They were supposed to see how rad I was and beg to join my gang. I just don’t understand what went wrong.”

“Don’t you need to start a gang for people to join it?” Taylor pointed out.

“Shit,” said Emma. “We need to start our own gang of ragtag teens with attitude immediately.”

“But Emma, wouldn’t that make us the bad guys?”

“To the bone,” said Emma as she put on her sunglasses.

“So cool,” Taylor gushed.

…

“We need street names if we’re going to have our own gang,” said Emma as she and Taylor lounged on her bed.

“What, why?”

“No offense, but the name Taylor doesn't really strike fear into the hearts of others.”

“I can be pretty menacing with a sewing needle.”

“No! We need names that will let everyone know that they shouldn’t fuck with us.”

Taylor gave her a dubious look. “Well, what's _your_ name going to be?”

“Cyclops.”

Taylor blinked. “Really? I didn’t think you would… uh… go for a name like that.”

“Look, Tay, I can either be ashamed of what happened to me or wear it like a badge of honor,” said Emma as she stared nobly into the distance. “All will tremble when they hear the name Cyclops. So what are you going to name yourself?”

“I don’t know. You know me, I’m terrible with coming up with names.”

“Well, we should name you after a trait that you have. That’s how street names are usually chosen.”

“So… my name would be… Glasses!” Taylor announced with a triumphant smile.

“How is anybody going to be intimidated by a name like that?!” She got a kicked puppy look from Taylor, but Emma refused to concede to her friend's adorable face. She was a delinquent now; she had to be hard as steel.

Taylor’s cheeks puffed up in thought. Emma waited patiently for her sister-in-arms to come up with a suitable name. “How about... yeah, I got nothing.”

“Ugh, Taylor, come on! This isn’t hard!”

Taylor scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine, if you’re so great at naming, why don’t you do it?”

“Ball Buster,” said Emma without hesitation.

Taylor let out a shriek, red-faced. “Absolutely not!”

Trying not to laugh at her mortified face, Emma shot out, “Dingle Destroyer.”

“Oh my gosh, Emma!”

“Family Finisher.”

“Please stop,” Taylor muttered with her face buried in her hands.

Even a heartless felon like Emma knew when to show mercy. “Pulverizer.”

“Okay! Sure! That one! Just no more suggestions!” Taylor shouted into her palms.

“Cyclops and Pulverizer,” said Emma, sounding out the names. “Perfect.”

When Taylor finally calmed down enough to talk, she asked, “What should we call our gang?”

Emma paused and thought about it. “The Switchblade Sisters.”

Taylor’s eyes lit up. “Ooh! Our gang signs can be skull and crossbones but with switchblades instead of bones. We can even wear matching jackets with the skulls on the back,” said Taylor excitedly.

“Perfect. Right, and you will need to carry your switchblade wherever you go. To do otherwise would shame the gang.”

“I don’t have a switchblade,” pointed out Taylor.

Emma rolled her eyes. “That’s a non-problem.” She reached into her switchblade drawer and pulled out a couple. Taylor fumbled with the knives that Emma dropped into her hand.

…

Principal Angie Sinister Blackwell clenched her fists in rage. Those damn Switch Blade Sisters ruled the school, which was utterly unacceptable. Unlike the rest of the local gangs, they refused to send Blackwell the proper kickback to look the other way. Didn’t those two understand that ten percent of the school budget came from gang bribery!?

But when Blackwell had hinted at the required dosh for them to continue their illicit group, Cyclops had replied that she was too cool for school! Blackwell had never been more insulted in her life. Nobody was too cool for school! The school was the epitome of cool, and she was the coolest.

She steepled her fingers as she considered how best to destroy Cyclops and Pulverizer. Should she send Mr. G after them with his cool hip attitude? Fight fire with fire, so to speak? With a shake of her head, she decided against it. While he lacked balls in a figurative sense, he unfortunately literally had them, so Pulveriser would… well, pulverize him.

No, she needed to send her best minion, who wouldn’t be so swiftly defeated by the Pulverizer. Blackwell got up and made her way to her office door. “Darlene, tell Sophia Hess I need to see her immediately.”

Ten minutes later, Hess stalked into the room like an apex predator. Wait, was that racist? Blackwell didn’t want to get sued by Alan Barnes, the most powerful man in Brockton Bay, so she mentally corrected herself. “Miss Hess, could you close the door? I need to speak to you about an important matter.” After Hess slammed the door shut with a scowl, Blackwell continued, “I have a hit I need you to fulfill. The Switchblade Sisters must die!”

“What the fuck?!” Sophia said. “I’m not just going to kill somebody for some jumped-up bureaucrat!”

For that, Hess just made the list. Blackwell internally fumed as she said, “Oh, I think you will, Hess. I know for a fact that you broke your probation. I could turn you in at any time I want to.” She was, of course, bluffing. The money that she got for having a Ward in her school was two thousand a month, which made up the remaining 90% of the school budget.

Hess looked apoplectic. “You're _blackmailing_ me? Are you serious?”

“‘Blackmail’ is such a dirty word. Accurate, true, but dirty all the same. Also, my name isn’t Sirius.”

“I can report you to the PRT and take you down with me for this,” sneered Sophia.

“Are you blackmailing with my blackmail attempt?” demanded Blackwell. Hess smirked. Damnit, outmaneuvered by a teen once more. Damn teens. They were the bane of her existence. “Very well, you win this round, Hess. What do _you_ want?”

“Look, I’m not going to go around killing people for you, but I am willing to rough up some gangsters if that’s what you’re willing to pay me for.”

Blackwell started to sweat nervously. “I can go as high as twenty dollars if we cut the entire band budget.”

“We have a band?” asked a surprised Hess.

“Of course,” Blackwell lied. She had been embezzling from that fund for years.

Hess let out a huff. “Well, I kind of wanted to kick their asses anyway, so fuck it, I’m in.”

“Very well then, I expect them to be dealt with by the end of the week.” As Hess left, Blackwell leaned back in her office chair and started laughing sinisterly. “Your days are numbered, Switchblade Sisters! There’s no greater villain than a high school principal!”

…

Kenta shook in rage as he stared down at his quivering minion. “What did you say?” he hissed.

“Uh um, you see… a new gang has seized control of Winslow.”

“Unacceptable!” Didn’t this fool realize that he who controlled the School controlled Brockton Bay? Everything depended on the ABB’s dominance of this high school.

Kenta ordered, “Tomorrow I want you to gather your men-“

…

“-and in front of the whole school, destroy Cyclops and-” demanded Kaiser-

…

“-man, I’m tripping so much fucking balls right now,” mumbled Skidmark.

…

As they walked to school, Taylor broke off from her usual ramblings and said, “Hey, Emma, I have a question.”

Emma glanced over at Taylor. “Shoot.”

“What are we supposed to do now that we rule the school?”

Emma blinked her eye and frowned. “From the research, I have done-” _Watching anime_ “-we’re supposed to go to other schools and fight their delinquents.”

“Okay…” Taylor said hesitantly. “But why?”

Emma had absolutely no idea. It was always very vague why the delinquents went out and fought each other. But that wasn’t important; it was what one needed to do. “You’ll understand when you’re older, Taylor,” Emma said sagely.

“You’re two months older than me,” argued Taylor.

“And in two months, you’ll understand,” Emma said as they rounded the corner to see a giant brawl right in front of the school doors. The ABB, E88, and the Merchant teens were duking it out in front of the school, as well as somebody from the track team for some reason. “Huh.”

Taylor glanced over at Emma. “Should we beat them up for operating on our turf?” she asked.

“Let’s do this!” Emma said as she and Taylor pulled out their switchblades, charging into battle.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Winslow Witness**

**Winslow’s Waterlogged Walruses Win Weekend Wootball Wame!!!!!!!!!**

**By Katy Wiggs**

Last Friday, our football team, the Waterlogged Walruses, won by default when the Immaculate Ibexes never arrived at the game! Whoop whoop!!! Their entire team plus their coach and bus driver had vanished under, like, mysterious circumstances on their way to our school.

We here at Winslow have a long, proud tradition of winning by default, and this stellar victory marks our nineteenth game won by default under the guiding hand of local hero Coach Roberts!!! With him at the helm, the Waterlogged Walruses have been transformed from the laughingstock of the school district into a name to be feared! Mothers weep when they hear that the Walruses are in town!!!

Unfortunately, during what should be a time of celebration, tragedy has struck our fine school!! Some of our detractors claim that the Walruses are cheats and have no respect for the sanctity of the sport or of life. They even went so far as to have our beloved Coach arrested!!! It just goes to show that these so-called "elite schools" can’t handle a tiny bit of competition from the little guy!

I reached out to Coach Roberts in his time of trouble, and from his cell, he had this to say about his arrest: “What has the world come to when you get your name slandered for loving football as much as I do? Back in my day, if you hired a hitman to take out your rivals, you were lauded for it! I blame all these God damn snowflakes. ‘I don’t want to get murdered! Wah wah!’ What a bunch of whiners!” Wise words from a wise man!!

Our dreamy star quarterback,  Haru Adachi, has been passionately (and sexily) speaking out in defense of Coach Roberts. “Roberts is the best damn thing that ever happened to Winslow. He made sure we learned all of the fundamentals we needed to succeed in both sports and life, such as rope-tying and the proper handling of chloroform.”

Gosh!!! This makes me so mad!!! Well I, for one, won't stand for this injustice!! And for legal reasons, I’m not saying we should go down to Immaculata and firebomb their school as retribution, wink wink!! I’ll see you guys Tuesday. :D

**Editor’s Note** \- A police investigation is still ongoing, so if you know what’s good for you, keep your damn mouths shut.

**Page 1**

…

**Scandal Alert! with Gary Kobayashi**

**By Gary** **Kobayashi**

**Edited by Gary Kobayashi**

WEE-woo-WEE-woo! That’s right, my dear readers, the claxons of the Scandal Alert are whining and wailing once more! Whispers of the most dreadful rumor have recently reached my ears, and it is to my great distress that I must inform you that they are true. Newly hired teacher, Diane White,  _ refuses _ to take money to look the other way.

Nobody was more shocked than I to hear about this disgusting display of integrity in the sacred halls of our illustrious school. Aghast, I stormed into her classroom and demanded answers from Mrs. White, utilizing the hard-hitting journalistic skills that I have developed over the years of intense practice.

…

Me: Like, what the fuck is wrong with you?

**White:** Gary, you can’t speak to a teacher that way! Detention after class!

Me: My bad. How about I give you a fiver, and we pretend this didn’t happen?

**White:** * _Shrilly yells*_ Absolutely not! I don’t know where in the world you got the idea that this is acceptable behavior.

Me: Ten dollars?

**White:** No!

Me: You drive a hard bargain. I can go as high as twenty dollars but no higher!

**White:** * _Her voice hardens like the tyrant she is_ * I’m increasing your detention by another hour. Now take your seat.

Me: You can’t silence the truth!

**White:** _ *Gives a resigned sigh in the face of my amazing words*  _ Gary, have you been doing the vape again?

Me: Stop trying to deflect from the issue at hand, Mrs. White! I ’ ve heard several reports about you regarding bribes!

**White:** Sweet merciful Jesus give me strength. Gary, I have not, nor will I ever take a bribe.

Me: Exactly! How is an honest student supposed to get a passing grade around here with that kind of attitude?

**White:** Perhaps if you studied and did the homework I assigned, you wouldn ’ t be failing my class.

Me: You monster. Why would you do this to us?

**White:** Look, Gary. I understand that you ’ ve been failed by the education system all your life, and you expect nothing but disinterest from the rest of the staff and me, but things are going to be changing around here.

Me: Changing how?

**White:** * _ An insane manic light enters her foul eyes _ * I promise you this: I  _ won’t _ turn away students when they come to me seeking help so I can weep drunkenly in the staffroom. When I see a student getting press-ganged, I won’t take kickbacks to look the other way. And I will always refuse to profit off my students’ lost education. 

I’m going to turn this school around even if it kills me!

…

As you can see, Mrs. White has gone mad with power. We need to band together as a school and break her spirit before she destroys everything that makes Winslow Winslow.

**Page 3**

…

**Battle of Five Armies!**

**By Jessica Bricks**

So, surprise surprise, we had another gang war last week. Right before first period, Thursday, a massive five-way brawl broke out between four gangs and some girl from the track team. The following chaos swept through the school, leaving behind a wake of destruction.

By the time the Switchblade Sisters, the new up-and-coming gang ( **see page 6** ), crushed all opposition, a good quarter of the school was wrecked. Fortunately, nothing of value was lost due to nothing in the school being of value.

I know you may be asking yourself: "Why is any of this newsworthy? After all, isn’t this a weekly thing for us?" Well, it’s because it looks like our school is entering into a brand-new era of gangland. Yay us.

It seems that the old guard has shattered under the weight of defeat after brutal defeat at the hands of the Switchblade Sisters. This would probably be a good thing if they hadn’t splintered apart into a multitude of ‘micro-gangs.’ It's been estimated that there are as many as thirty-seven of them, with more to come.

Some of you may still have questions like: “Jessica, you beautiful magnificent bitch, why does this mountain of shit that is Winslow keep getting shittier?” Don’t worry, I’ve got the down-low for you. I even got a few people to snitch and tell me exactly what’s going on. You fucks better be grateful since I had to spend out of my own pocket to bribe these rats; our budget was cut  _ again _ to fund the vice principal’s meth lab ( **see page 2** ).

So, like the proper fucking journalist that I am, I went out to the source and interviewed several of these micro-gangs. I almost got stabbed multiple times, so again, you better be grateful for all the shit I went through.

Do you think those goodie-two-shoes down at the Arcadia Adjunct go out and get their hands dirty like I do to get the truth? Those pricks believe that they have a better paper than us, just because they have things like fact-checkers, a photographer, and standards. Well, you know what we have that they don’t?! Me!

Anyway, here are some choice quotes from some of my interviews, and by choice, I mean really fucking dumb.

Ron ‘Two-Eyes’ Sullivan, the founder of the Iron Fists, explained to me why he decided to start his own gang with his best friend, Keith. “So, Keith and I were ripping some sick cotton when we started shooting the shit about the BoFA, and we got to thinking: If the Switchblade Sisters can fight off the rest of the gangs, why can’t we? I’ve taken some karate classes and got all the way to a yellow belt, so I’m pretty confident about our chances.”

I asked what he was hoping to do with his newfound gang, and he responded thus: “Whoa, that’s like a really good question, you should be a journalist.” He then spent the next few minutes spewing smoke in my face before his brain finally kicked into gear. “Can I, like, get back to you on that?” He never did.

Next up, Barry, the new head of the Blood Stabbers, explains why he left the E88 and formed his own group. “Look, I’m as racist as the next man, but that’s not all who I am, you know? I have other interests; for instance, scrapbooking. Anyway, I think we should keep politics out of gang violence. Is it too much to ask that I can mug someone without it being a race thing?”

When asked if he would be having non-white members join his gang, he responded, “What are you? An SJW? It’s just like you people, trying to shoehorn diversity into everything. Next, you’re going to accuse me of being racist!” I then pointed out that he admitted to being racist not one minute ago, and he stormed off, yelling, “Cuck!” over his shoulder. I greatly anticipate the day someone stabs him.

Despite my will to live slowly but surely dying an agonizing death with every subsequent interview, I forced myself to speak with Emma ‘Cyclops’ Barnes, the cause of all this bullshit.

She had this to say about the sudden rise in competition springing up to challenge her reign as Queen Bitch of Winslow: “Personally, I think that this is the best thing that could have happened to our foul school. The more delinquents, the better! I mean, really? Only three gangs? What is this, amateur hour? By the end of the year, I’m hoping there will be least a hundred different gangs in a constant state of warfare.”

“Of course, the idea that any of them are a threat to my rule is laughable.” She then proceeded to bring a hand to her mouth, throw her head back, and say, not actually laugh, ‘Ohohoho,’ for the next minute like a goddamn weeb. “I welcome the challenge; after all, pressure makes diamonds. But let there be no mistake-”

She then paused briefly to flip her hair and dramatically pose with a switchblade because, of course, she did. “For every fool that tries to steal my throne, I will leave behind a broken ruined husk begging me for the sweet mercy of death. But I will not grant it, for I shall use each of them to fashion my throne of darkness, and as I look down from it, all will behold me and despair, for none can match the evil that lies within my heart. FEAR ME!”

So, yeah, if any of you were worried that the new gang leaders would be any more competent then the old ones, it's pretty clear that you can put your fears to rest. Jessica out.

**Editor’s Note:** Speaking of budget cuts, a quick reminder that the Winslow Weekly is running a fundraiser to pay for the biannual paper release. Please show up to the ‘baked’ bake sale. We have some excellent new strains. 

**Page 5**

…

“Shadow Stalker.” 

Sophia looked up from her copy of the Winslow Witness to find Armsmaster looming over her. She couldn’t help but be faintly surprised; he never came down here to see the Wards. In fact, Sophia was sure he barely even remembered that they even existed most of the time. He was once convinced one of them was called Browbeat, to everyone's confusion. 

“I’m glad to see you’re back with us,” he said, giving her a warm smile. 

Sophia didn’t believe him for a second. Nobody was ever glad to see her.

“What do you want?” she spat, her tone conveying, ‘Fuck off, you government pig.’

His smile of lies died an ugly death. He let out a sigh, before asking curtly, “What do you know about the events surrounding the new gang that has seized control of Winslow? I would have come to debrief you earlier, but apparently, the Youth Guard passed a regulation that prevents us from interrogating Wards in their hospital beds.” 

His complete lack of feigned concern about her recent trip to the hospital almost made Sophia respect him as a person. Almost.

Giving him her best glower, she considered what she would tell him. She probably shouldn’t mention that she had been paid to beat up gangsters. It seemed like something that they would throw a shitfit over, which seemed hypocritical since  _ they _ paid her to beat up gangsters. Best to go with something close to the truth, so she didn’t get mixed up later.

“I was standing outside Winslow before school started, keeping an eye out for trouble, when I accidentally got swept up in the regular bi-monthly gang war.”

“What.”

“Yeah, apparently that’s just a thing at Winslow,” said Sophia with a shrug. It was one of the many reasons why she refused to be transferred to Arcadia, the losers.

Armsmaster stood there in silence for a moment before he let out another exasperated sigh. “Proceed.”

“As I said, I was caught up in the brawl, and despite not being able to use my power, I was kicking ass,” she said proudly. “I probably would have beat them all up myself if the Switchblade Sisters hadn’t shown up.”

Despite the fact he was wearing a helmet, Sophia could practically feel him raise a skeptical eyebrow at her. “That seems unlikely, since the report showed that there were over a hundred people involved in the incident.”

“I might have been struggling there at the end, but I would have been fine,” Sophia admitted grudgingly.

“Sure,” he said, his voice dripping with so much condescension that Sophia had to fight down the urge to slug him. “Speaking of the Switchblade Sisters, tell me everything that you know about them.”

Sophia’s hands curled into fists as she recalled her duel with Cyclops. She had first laid eyes on the crazy bitch when she had been literally skipping into the mass of battling gangsters, laughing like a hyena. Sophia had been forced to move quickly, punching, kicking, and biting her way through the crowd of scum to get to her target. She never let anyone else claim her prey.

When Sophia had finally reached Cyclops, they had locked gazes for what felt like an eternity. Cyclops had given her a savage smile, her eye filled with a manic hunger, and Sophia knew right then and there that she was facing a kindred spirit. A fellow hunter. Nobody would ever understand them like they would each other. It was destiny. 

So, naturally, Sophia had to destroy her.

Cyclops’s fighting style was the most baffling thing she had ever come across. It was like she had no idea how actually to fight, and was just flailing her arms around like a maniac. Yet somehow, she always seemed to make the wrong move at just the right time, catching Sophia off guard. She hadn’t even managed to land a clean hit once on Cyclops. It had been the most infuriating fight she had ever been in.

“Shadow Stalker? You’ve been staring into empty air for the past five minutes growling.”

Sophia got a hold of herself. First, she needed to appease this asshole,  _ then _ vengeance. 

“Cyclops is a skilled knife fighter and martial artist,” Sophia said. She refused to believe that she had somehow lost to someone that didn’t know how to fight. It had to be some kind of ruse to get through Sophia’s defenses. “From what I can tell, she’s just in the gang scene for the thrill of the battle. She seems completely uninterested in selling drugs or shaking people down. She hasn’t even bothered to recruit anybody, and it’s been weeks.”

“No further recruits? Interesting,” Armsmaster said. “Then, do you know anything about her partner, Pulverizer?” 

Sophia blinked. Oh yeah, her. “I know less about Pulverizer. She seems to be Cyclops's right-hand woman. I didn’t get to watch Pulverizer fight, but judging from the screams, it sounded like she was almost as dangerous as Cyclops.”

“Anything else,” Armsmaster prompted, after a moment of silence. 

Probably, but she was feeling petty, so she just shrugged her shoulders. Besides, Cyclops was  _ her _ nemesis; the rest of the Protectorate could fuck right off. 

“It seems unlikely to me that a pair of unpowered teenagers would be able to defeat three gangs simultaneously. I want you to keep an eye on them and see if you can work out what their powers are. From the sound of it, they have subtle powers, most likely thinkers.”

Sophia nodded, following along with his logic. “I get you. I’m going to be going undercover and infiltrating them, then?”

“What?! No! Why would you think that?” Armsmaster exclaimed. “It would be completely out of character for me to even suggest something like that! It’s like you fail to grasp me as a person at all! That plan would be both illegal and dangerous. If I approved such an insane sting operation, my career would be ruined if anybody caught wind of it.”

“So what you’re saying is if anybody found out about a plan like this, you would get in trouble,” Sophia said, slowly.

“Yes, exactly.”

“I get you,” she said, with a conspiratorial wink.

“Don’t wink at me!” he almost yelled. “And don’t join the Switchblade Sisters!”

“But—”

“No!” Armsmaster turned around and stormed out the door. Sophia thought she heard him mutter, “Fucking teens and their ridiculous schemes.”

Sophia flipped off his retreating back. Fine, she didn’t want to join Cyclops’s stupid gang anyway. She smirked to herself as she realized he hadn’t forbidden her from continuing her vendetta against Cyclops.


End file.
